Shackles
by Miyako Suou
Summary: Draco and Harry come to in a dungeon with no idea as to how they got there. They'll have to work together to find a way out, but the question is: can they? HP/DM slash, Drarry. Rating will go up in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! It's been a long time since I've written anything for . Sorry about my long absence. This is a drarry romance, and the rating will definitely go up in later chapters.

**Disclaimer: The characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling and this work is not being used for profit.**

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"It could be worse–"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Well, excuse me for trying to be optimistic."

"You're deluded. There is no way for this situation to be any worse."

"Voldemort could still be alive."

"Well isn't that a cheery thought. I think I told you to shut up."

"Like I'd ever listen to you, Malfoy."

The two hung there in silence for a moment or two. The dungeon where they were shackled, suspended in the air by their wrists was quiet. There was no indication that Draco could see that the kidnapper was anywhere in sight. Draco squirmed, but all this accomplished was a sort of pendulum motion. He couldn't touch the floor no matter how much he stretched his toes.

"This is all your fault," he snarled, to fill the silence.

"If you hadn't been so keen on getting into a fight with me, you'd still be safely at Hogwarts and it would just be me here by myself."

Draco hated it when people pointed out his mistakes.

"How do we get out of here?" he asked, still squirming against the metal shackles. "These are starting to chafe my wrists."

It was a lie. His wrists were bleeding, and he could feel a trickle of warm liquid running down his arm and into his robes. He wasn't about to let Potter know that though. He couldn't feel the tips of his fingers as his hands were going numb.

"How did we get here in the first place? Do you know who kidnapped us?" Potter demanded, glasses askew on his face.

"I have no bloody clue, Potter. Now, do you see any way out of here?"

"No. My wand is missing. I had it in a holster on my arm, but it's not there anymore."

"Mine isn't either." He sighed and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling in exasperation. Then he frowned, not quite believing what he was looking at.

"Potter," he said, concentrating. "Look up."

Potter tipped his head back too, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"There's a key hanging from the ceiling. Why is there a key hanging from the ceiling?"

"Don't question what it's doing there! How do we get it?"

They both stared at the key for a bit, and Draco's neck started to ache. It was hanging there on a tarnished silver chain about halfway in between them, too far away for his chained hands to reach. Draco groaned. There was no way that he could reach it, it was like their kidnapper was mocking them by putting their salvation within a few feet of them.

Or like a challenge...

"Potter, how heavy are you?" he asked, trying to measure the distance with his eyes.

"Not to heavy. Hermione keeps telling me I should eat more..."

"I don't care what Granger tells you. Shuck your trainers."

"What? Why? Being in my stocking feet will not help our situation at all."

"Shut up, Potter, for the last time and listen. Shuck your trainers. Then, I need you to try to get a leg around me."

"Malfoy, now is not the time for weird come-ons." Potter was only too obviously fighting a grin.

Draco closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, Potter had lost the battle and was openly smirking.

"Not the time, Potter, this is serious. If you can get a leg around me, you can scale my body, get a foot on my shoulder and use me to balance on so that you can snag the key with your other foot."

Potter finally quit grinning and bit his lip, looking seriously at the distance between them, and at the key hanging on the hook above them. After a moment of thought, he toed off one trainer, and then the other.

"Okay, now try and–"

"Malfoy, I got this. Just stay still."

Potter swung his body once, twice, then flung an ankle around Draco's knee, pulling them closer together. Draco, for his part, kept very still, so as not to dislodge Potter's tenuous hold. Potter wiggled his foot, trying to get a better grip. Then, he tried to get his other leg up around Draco's hip. Draco bit his lip savagely, fighting back any sounds indicating how this was affecting him.

It wasn't really fair at all. At the last battle of the war at Hogwarts, the last time he'd seen Potter before coming back for his eighth year, he'd been skinny, pale and covered in soot. Clearly under-nourished, dirty, cut and bruised, the Harry he saw in the war had been unremarkable. Well, in appearance at least. In other ways he was bloody amazing and an honest-to-Merlin war hero.

Not that Draco would ever tell him that.

Nor would he tell him that when Harry returned to Hogwarts, the real reason that he couldn't stop staring at his former nemesis and current savior was because he was incredibly attractive. In the few months it took to return to Hogwarts, he'd changed dramatically. He was clean and healthy for one, which always helped in the looks department. He'd gained back all his lean muscle from their previous Quidditch seasons. He'd even stopped wearing baggy, gross-looking clothes. But mostly, he was confident, happy, and unplagued by thoughts of war.

Then, he'd seen Draco and smiled. Draco's stomach filled with angry, cannibalistic butterflies that raged to sudden, vengeful life.

And just like that, Draco had the most enormously inappropriate crush on Harry Potter.

He'd never live this down. In order to combat his sudden about-face in sentiment, he'd covered it up by being just as sarcastic and snarky as he'd been before the war. Well, mostly. He never said anything about Potter's parents anymore. Or Weasley's money situation. Or about Granger's ancestry. But he did tell Potter everyday just how frustrating he was.

Which brought him back to the argument they'd been having by the lake, where both had blacked out and come to in a dungeon.

Harry's leg was wrapped firmly around his hip now, and his other foot was trying to squirm around his shoulder. This was not how he had envisioned this coming to pass, but feeling the warmth strength of Potter's firm calf against his lower back felt just as good as he'd imagined. Pressed this close to Potter's body, he could smell the musky masculine scent and imagine being held closer and tighter than this.

His heart was trying to battle its way out of his ribcage. He held his breath, not trusting himself not to hyperventilate.

Potter managed to get his foot around Draco's neck.

That certainly distracted him effectively. Potter had to lean a lot of weight on him in order to reach up with his other foot. The extra pull on his already sore wrists was agony. He bit his lip for a different reason now, trying to hold in the cry of pain and managing to keep it to a strangled whimper.

"Sorry," Potter murmured, noticing in spite of Draco's efforts.

Potter's toe found the chain, and unhooked it from the ceiling. He carefully lowered the key until Draco's numb fingers could grasp ahold of it. Once Draco had the key in his grip, he climbed carefully down Draco's body again.

Draco could barely feel the key in his hand, so he had to tilt his head backward to see where the keyhole was on his shackles. He almost thought that he wouldn't be able to get the key in, but after some fumbling, he inserted and twisted.

The shackle popped open, leaving all the weight on only one wrist. He breathed in harshly through his teeth and didn't look up at the damage as he felt renewed warm rivulets running down his arm. He realized that if he released the other shackle, when he dropped to the ground, he wouldn't be able to reach Potter's wrists.

"I need to undo your wrists," he told Harry. "Hold still, okay?"

Potter didn't protest as he caught the back of Harry's knee with one leg, and climbed up him slowly, just so that he could get close enough to reach Potter's shackles. He unlocked one, and when Potter was hanging by one wrist he said, "Ready?"

Potter nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**HI everyone! Another chapter already! Couldn't resist posting another one... **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein, the characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. This story was not written for profit.**

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Draco unlocked the other, disentangling himself from Potter at the same time so as not to end up being dragged down by Potter's full weight. Potter landed and stumbled, while Draco swung back and forth above him. Draco reached up and grasped the chain above the manacle, pulling himself further up to put slack in the chain. He grasped the chain with his manacled hand so that he could unlock it. When it popped open, he let himself tumble to the floor.

Potter caught him, strong arms wrapping themselves around his back and holding him up. For a few moments, he was engulfed in warmth, feeling the material of Potter's cloak against his cheek and the solidness of Potter against him.

"I'm okay," he said weakly.

Potter unclasped his arms and pulled back, lifting up Draco's damaged wrist. The other one was scraped, but the one Potter was inspecting had puncture wounds in it. Gritting his teeth, he turned his wrist over, examining the wounds. The cuff on one wrist had only too obviously had barbs on the inside.

He looked at Potter's wrists where the sleeves of his robe had ridden up, but both were only about as damaged as his other wrist was.

"Why?" he asked, trying to sort out in his head why only one wrist had punctures in it.

He looked more closely and found what he had been fearing was the case: evidence that there had been potion on the barbs, and that whatever it had been was now in Draco's bloodstream.

"Do you know of any potion that is this particular metallic blue colour?" he asked, peering at the residue left around the wounds.

Potter looked at him blankly. Never mind, he'd forgotten just how inept Potter was at anything that had to do with Potions.

He sniffed at his wrist, and underneath the metallic scent of blood was a distinct smell.

"Coriander and lavender," he muttered, leaning forward to lick up a patch of the blue potion. "Vervain. This is not good, Potter. Although, as you said, it could be worse. At least it's not poison."

"What is it?" Potter asked. "Are you sure you should have licked it before you knew what it was?"

"I had my suspicions. It's Linder's Lullaby. It will put me to sleep indefinitely. The antidote is Love's First Kiss, which is notoriously hard to find. I'm going to be asleep in about an hour."

"Love's first kiss?" Potter wrinkled his nose. "How are we supposed to find your true love?"

"Don't be daft, Potter," Draco said with a resigned sigh. "Love's First Kiss is a potion. It's a deep red colour and it smells like cinnamon. It has a very rare ingredient in it, so it is hard to find."

"What's the ingredient?"

"Phoenix ash."

"I don't know if you realize this, but I do have access to a phoenix..." Potter replied. "His name is Fawkes."

"Oh. Well maybe I won't be asleep forever after all. It can only be absorbed through very thin skin though," Draco explained. "The reason it's called Love's First Kiss is that it's usually administered to the lips."

"Right. Well, we should continue with our escape attempt then," Potter looked around. "We appear to be in a dungeon cell."

"Way to state the obvious, Potter."

"Sorry, I just wanted us to be on the same page."

"We're certainly in the same dungeon, and that's quite enough for me at the moment, Potter. Now how do we get out of here?"

Draco walked up to the bars that separated them from the wooden door and pushed on them. They were solid iron, as far as he could tell. Potter began walking around their cell, first looking up at the shackles, then pacing back and forth. There was a discoloured tile on the floor, and Potter stepped on it, not even looking down at where he was going.

The bars shimmered and disappeared.

"What?" Potter gasped, stepping forward.

The bars reappeared suddenly, almost seeming to slam back into place. Potter skidded to a halt. The two of the glanced back and forth in between the bars and the tile. Potter stepped backwards, back onto the tile. The bars disappeared. He stepped off them, they reappeared. Potter took off his shoe and put it on the tile. The bars stayed as they were, as solid as they had been before.

Draco came back over and stepped on the tile. Nothing happened.

Draco stepped aside, and went over to where the bars were. Potter stepped on the tile. Glancing back into Potter's determined green eyes, Draco waved his hand through the space where the bars should be. His arm went through just fine. Still watching Potter, he stepped through to the other side, and he was able to pass through.

Potter leapt forward, but within a split second, the bars were back in place.

"Maybe I can't leave," Potter blinked rapidly. "This prison was only meant for me. You can just leave if you want."

"Then why was I also chained up beside you? Why am I even here?" Draco asked slowly.

He could leave. If he wanted to, he could just go, and nothing Potter could do would be able to stop him from abandoning him.

Except that Potter was staring at him, green eyes wide, begging him wordlessly not to go.

Draco looked away, looking around the room he was in. It didn't take him long to find another discoloured tile, this time on his side, imbedded on the wall at knee height. It was a coppery red-brown colour. He stepped forward and put his hand on it. Potter leaned forward in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Potter cursed from behind him, and Draco pressed harder, willing it to work. It still did nothing. Frowning, he knelt on the floor, examining the tile. It was the colour of blood. He looked down at his mangled wrist, that was still sticky with clotting blood. He pressed his wrist against the tile, smearing his blood over it.

The bars shimmered and disappeared.

Potter surged forward, running to Draco's side as if his life depended on it. But the bars stayed hidden, and after a minute, they still hadn't reappeared.

"Let's just get out of here," Potter said roughly.

The two of them went cautiously over to the wooden door. There was a rusty metal ring obviously meant to pull it open. Expecting it to be locked, Draco dragged on it and nearly fell when it actually swung open. They stepped into a perpendicular hallway lit up with torches, with one passage that went left and the other right. Right in front of them hung a paper scroll that was backlit by the orange glow of fire.

_Congratulations, two young warriors_

_One of light and one of dark_

_The both of you are free to go_

_Should you wish to disembark_

_Freedom lies in one direction_

_Nothing here will hold you back_

_But if you wish to claim them_

_I have the wands you dearly lack_

_Right will take you out of danger_

_But no return once through the doors_

_Left is where the challenge awaits you_

_To reclaim what's rightly yours_

"Oh hells, no!" Draco groaned, reading the message through again to make sure he understood what was going on. "I don't have time to go on a long quest for wands! I only have about three quarters of an hour left before naptime."

"Do you want to go?" Potter was looking at him seriously. "I'll get both of them if you want to leave."

The offer was tempting. Draco didn't do well when confronted with danger, and retrieving his wand would probably be a deathtrap. He should leave. The message said he could leave, Potter said he could leave and Draco really really wanted to leave.

"Fuck." He walked past Potter and the stupid message and began striding down the lefthand corridor, one that probably led to his ultimate doom.

"Malfoy?"

He shot a challenging look over his shoulder. "Coming, Potter?"

Potter hurried after him, and together they walked towards what Draco thought was likely certain death.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein belong to J.K. Rowling. This work is not being used for profit.**

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The door at the end of the corridor loomed in front of them, and Draco fought the urge to turn and run back down the hallway and towards safety. He usually tried to avoid danger, when at all possible. In order to stay alive, one didn't usually poke around in perilous situations and tried to avoid being noticed at all costs.

But Potter was counting on him not to be a complete coward.

Swallowing hard, he reached out and grabbed the ring on the door. With a cry, he let go of it and danced backwards, looking down at his hand for damage. There was none, although Draco had sworn he could feel his hand burning when he touched the ring. Potter reached out and nudged the ring with his knuckle, hurriedly pulling back as he too felt the burning sensation.

"Will it actually burn my hand?" asked Potter, staring in challenge at the ring.

"It doesn't appear so, although that bloody well hurt!" Draco glared at the ring.

It soon proved that even if they wrapped their hands in cloth, it still sent bursts of pain through their hands, same as before.

Potter unfastened his wizard robes and pulled the muggle shirt he had underneath over his head. Draco was momentarily distracted as miles of smooth skin was displayed right in front of him. Potter twisted the shirt into a semblance of a rope and looped it around the door handle. Grasping the shirt, he used it to pull the door open, and the two of them slipped through. The weighted door closed behind them.

Once through, Potter struggled back into his shirt, much to Draco's disappointment.

"What the hell is that?" Draco, who was now undistracted by half-naked Potters demanded, surveying the room in front of them.

"It looks like an obstacle course."

"I know that, Potter! Why is it here?"

Potter was silent, and for that, Draco was glad. He was already contemplating turning back the way they'd come. They were standing on a ledge above a thirty foot drop, and in front of them was a set of bars obviously meant to be swung across. He looked over the edge. There was a pool of water at the bottom, but that did not mean he wanted to fall in it. Potter reached up to touch the bars. Remembering the door handle, Draco leapt forward.

"No, wait!" He grabbed Potter's hand.

Potter froze, looking with wide eyes at where Draco's fingers were curled over his own. Draco tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Potter turned his large, green eyes on Draco, blinking questioningly at him.

"What?" he asked.

"I just thought it might be like the door," Draco explained, looking away.

"You didn't want me to get hurt?" Harry said, the beginnings of a smile flickering around the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, never mind!" Draco snapped, reaching up and grabbing the bar.

There was no burst of pain, and the bar remained solid. Draco sighed in relief, then scowled as he remembered that they had to cross these stupid bars with water thirty feet below him. Of course, no one said he had to imitate a bloody monkey. Grasping the bar, he turned himself upside down and got his knees hooked around the bar above his head. He pulled himself through the gap in the bars, so that he was sitting on top of them now.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Potter asked, looking up at him. "We have to swing across!"

"No, I bloody well don't." Draco stood, a tad shakily, and began walking across the bars, holding his arms out for balance. "This is faster anyway, right?"

"Wait, Malfoy, don't leave me here!" He felt the bars vibrate as Potter followed him.

As soon as they were back on solid ground, the bars disintegrated. Draco leaned over and looked down.

"There's no way back, now," he reported.

"Let's just keep going," Potter said, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. "Look, we have to climb up that wall with the netting, and at the top there's another ledge. We can use that knotted rope to swing across to that other knotted rope, jump onto that ledge, shimmy across that narrow ledge, and then we're home free!"

"That's all we have to do," Draco said flatly, feeling cheated.

"Yep!" Potter said happily. "Let's go!"

Draco did not want to be climbing this stupid netting. It wasn't attached to the wall that well, and it dipped every time one of them pulled themselves up to another handhold. Draco's knuckles kept banging on the wall as Potter scaled the net above him. He wasn't made for this physical exertion! Potter was already at the top, and he was looking down at Draco expectantly.

"Come on, Malfoy, you have to hurry!"

Draco knew that. There was a time limit, and if he fell asleep while climbing or swinging on one of these stupid obstacles, he would probably die.

"Just go on without me!" he yelled back, shaking the sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"No, I'm not leaving you behind!"

Draco took a deep breath and climbed faster. Potter reached out and helped him onto the ledge, and Draco lay there for a moment, gasping. Potter was already up and surveying the next obstacle, in which they were expected to swing on a rope fifty feet in the air. Then grab another rope and swing to that one. This was ridiculous!

Potter was already going. He'd grabbed the rope and he swung out into empty space, using the motion of his body to swing further out, towards the other rope. Draco watched him, feeling helpless to do anything in the event that Potter fell. Thankfully, Potter managed to grab the other rope and transfer himself over without any problems. In no time at all, he was on the other side, looking back at Draco.

Draco went over to the edge, leaned over, and immediately got such a sense of vertigo that he nearly fell straight of the ledge. He sat down and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. His stomach was clenched into enough knots that he was sure his intestines could be used as a rope.

"Malfoy, are you okay?" Potter called, voice worried.

"Shut it, Potter," Draco said, climbing to his feet.

He reached out and grabbed the rope, desperately keeping his eyes on Potter's face across the chasm he had to cross. He swung out, felt his weight hanging on to the rope for dear life. _Don't look down. Don't look down._ He swayed his weight to gain momentum, then reached out and snagged the other rope. Carefully, he transferred his grip to the other rope and let go of the first.

He got a foot on the ledge, but was starting to swing backwards and away from the ledge when he felt a hand fist into his jumper and an arm go around his waist. A moment later, Potter flung himself backwards, Draco in his hold. The two of them tumbled to the ground, panting, Draco trembling at his near-death experience. Draco clung to him, fisting his hands in the front of Potter's shirt and burying his nose in Potter's neck. Potter's scent was warm and musky. It was nice.

"Thanks, Potter," he managed to gasp out. "That was close."

"It's just this narrow ledge here that we have to shimmy across." Potter indicated a ledge that was about a foot across.

"Is this a bad time to mention that I don't have much of a head for heights?" Draco asked, squeezing his eyes shut again.

"How can you be scared of heights after playing Quidditch? We have to get across this ledge, unless you want to stay here for the rest of your life." Potter sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Look, there's a crack here that you can stick your fingers in and use as a handhold. Just close your eyes and shimmy across after me, okay?"

Draco nodded, not quite able to bring himself to speak. This was ridiculous. He should have just left when he had the chance. How did they know Draco was afraid of heights? Who the hell was this mysterious "they" anyway? He wanted to tell Potter that there was a world of difference between being in control of a broom and dangling in midair without a wand, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he'd be sick.

He berated their kidnapper in his head the entire way across, concentrating on his rage at being in this situation rather than the long drop below him. He only opened his eyes when he felt Potter's hand, warm, on his shoulder. He felt free to collapse on the last ledge for just a moment while Potter examined the door in front of them.

"This is the only way out," Potter said matter-of-factly. "That means we have to go through it."

"Well, what are you waiting for then, Potter?" Draco stood and walked over to the door. "Let's do it."

They pushed it open together.

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Thanks for reading everyone! If anyone has trouble visualizing the setup for the obstacle course, it's a bit like Tomb Raider. And I guess Harry isn't exactly Lara Croft either. Anyway, I hope this continues to be interesting! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Everyone! I'm trying to get these out as fast as possible, but I'm pretty busy right now. I hope you continue to enjoy my story! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, your comments are very much appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not being used for profit.**

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They entered a small cement room, and in the middle was a pedestal. Draco had read enough wizard adventure stories to know that this set-up never foretold good things.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing at the vessel that sat on the pedestal.

"It's a pensieve," Potter replied, walking slowly closer. "And look."

The other wizard held up a vial that Draco hadn't noticed earlier.

"Memories?" he ventured a guess.

"Memories," Potter confirmed, uncorking the vial and pouring the silvery liquid into the pensieve. "I think that if we want to continue, we have to watch them."

Draco swallowed hard and stepped up beside Potter.

"Well," he said softly. "Let's go."

In they plunged.

A room took shape around them, and Draco recognized it as a morgue. There were three people standing around a body laid out on a table. Draco moved closer, curious, and he heard Potter following closely on his heels. It was a young woman, covered up to her neck by a sheet. Spread out next to her were a set of robes.

"That's Kingsley!" Potter gasped, looking up into the face of a tall wizard in Auror robes. "And Mad-Eye, too."

Draco ignored him and stepped up to the body. He looked down at her face, then looked over at the robes. It didn't take long to figure out some minor details.

"Potions Master," he announced to Potter. "Worked for the Ministry."

Potter abandoned the two Aurors and came up beside him. "Okay, Ministry robes. I'm guessing they belong to her. How do you know she's a Potion's Master?"

"Stains on the front, creases from rolling the sleeves up to the elbow. Singe on one sleeve from working with cauldron flames. Come on, Potter. You saw Snape every single day at Hogwarts."

"Then why is her face and hair not greasy?" Potter asked. "She looks fairly young, too."

"An apprentice, maybe?" Draco walked over to the body, just as the memory finally started playing.

Memory-Kingsley drew back the sheet and said, "Melissa Harburrow, found early this morning in the morgue. Someone brought this body down and put it in here. Last night, she was still in the Potions lab at half nine, when her last co-worker went home for the evening."

"Who has access to this room?" demanded Moody, picking up one of her hands to examine it. "She didn't get down here by herself."

"We already had a team search the lab," the third person, a woman in white robes, reported. "There's no sign of the murder taking place in the lab. The wards were dismantled at about 2 in the morning and reset at 3. The only reason that we found her before her body was cremated was because one of the lab assistants opened the wrong vault."

"That's snake scale," Draco input, looking at the hand that Moody was examining. "Caught under her fingernails. What kind though?"

"She was at the Potions lab at 9:30 last night. So when did she die?" Kingsley asked, frowning.

"Autopsy report is skewed. Her body temperature cooled far more quickly than it would have normally from being in the morgue. Our best guess is between 12 and 2."

"Cause of death?"

"Her blood is completely frozen. Flash frozen, it happened all at once."

"What the hell would cause that?" Potter's expression twisted in a vaguely amusing way.

Draco turned to the robes and examined them further. "Snake scale and Midnight hellebore. Look here, Potter. Look at her nail beds, they're turning–"

"Blue," Potter replies, looking at them thoughtfully. "Why blue?"

"It's more purple, Potter, honestly. She's been brewing using Midnight Hellebore. It's obvious from how dark the colour is that she's been doing so for an extended period of time. Except that Midnight Hellebore is a Class B Non-Tradeable substance. Only Unspeakables and Aurors have access to it. It's main use in potions is untraceable poisons and drugs. Cross reference that with snake-scale... I think that this is most likely runespoor scale, actually... another Class B Non-tradeable substance... and we have Morpheus Muse. Or, as it is known on the street, just Muse."

"What is that?" Potter looked at him askance. "Why do you know so much about Potions? What's more, do you find it suspicious that your knowledge of Potions keeps coming up?"

"Muse is a recreational drug, but because of the Hellebore, it slowly poisons the user. Highly addictive and hard to remove from the system once introduced, it is one of the main sources of money for the Knockturn Alley Knights. Also, very definitely illegal. Why do you think I know what it is, Potter?" Draco looked down at his hands. "Under the watch of the Dark Lord, my skill at Potions was put to use. I know better than almost anyone the ingredients and effects of this drug."

"So she's been brewing Muse?" Harry looked down at her body. "So do you think that she might have gotten on the bad side of someone dangerous?"

"Possibly?" Draco shrugged. "I suppose the only thing that can be done is find out who else was in the Ministry at the time of her death. But seeing as only Unspeakables and Aurors can even get ahold of those two ingredients, I'd say that the stores of confiscated items should be checked. Then they know if the supplier was in the Ministry or whether she had to deal with the Underground potions market."

Potter was staring at the girl again. "Potter, quit staring at her chest. She's _dead_."

"There's something odd about the shape of her ribcage," he said, frowning again.

"She has several broken ribs and a broken sternum," cut in the lab witch. "They occurred post-mortem. Not only that, her jaw has been dislocated."

"It sounds like someone tried to revive her," Potter said, tilting his head thoughtfully. "That sounds like Muggle CPR right there. I guess it didn't work if she's dead."

"But if they occurred after she died, then someone who knows Muggle life-saving techniques found her. I wonder who that could be?"

A moment later, the scene shifted and swirled. They were in another austere looking room, white walls, and a man sitting at a table in front of them. A moment later, Kingsley stepped through the door."

"Norman Richards. You were at the Ministry last night, working. Do you recognize this woman?"

He was shown a picture of Melissa.

"I do," Richards said, leaning closer. "That's the girl I saw last night in the lift."

"Where was she going?"

"I didn't ask. But I was heading to level seven, and she was still in the lift when I got off."

"The Department of Mysteries," he and Potter said together, before glancing at each other in bemusement.

"What, it was obvious," Potter said, shrugging. "I mean, I don't even know what's on level eight, but everyone and their auntie knows where the Department of Mysteries is."

"What time was this at?" Kingsley interrupted.

"Just past midnight."

The scene shifted again, same room, different person. Kingsley was still there.

"Darla Chisholm. You were in the Department of Mysteries last night on an overnight shift. Did you see this woman while you were there?"

Darla leaned forward slightly, and her frown was mild as she took in Melissa's face. "No."

"Lying!" Draco announced giddily.

"I don't understand why the Auror department is interfering in Unspeakable affairs," Darla added, her tone frosty. "We are out of your jurisdiction."

"No you're not," Kingsley said flatly. "Not when we have reason to believe that someone who went into your area of the Ministry was killed last night."

"She wasn't in our part of the building."

"She's a user," Draco said suddenly, and Potter turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"Look at her pupils. Dilated and ringed in silver."

"She can't be under the influence right now, can she?"

"Once a person is addicted, they're always under the influence. It's very hard to wipe completely from the system. Her eyes would probably be like that even if she had quit weeks before. Which she hasn't. Look, withdrawal tremors."

The world swirled again, but this time, the Pensieve ejected them both from the memories.

"Hey, wait! Why did it do that?" Potter actually looked cross at not getting the chance to finish solving the mystery. "We never got to find out what happened!"

"Why were we even in those memories?" Draco sighed. "What was the point? We need to get out of here. I'll be asleep soon. Very soon."

"I don't know. How are we supposed to proceed if we don't know why we were there?"

Draco looked over at the door.

"Potter, the door is open."

They both looked at the door incredulously.

"Did we pass the test then? Whatever it was that we were being tested on?"

"Let's not stay and question why, let's just get out of he– here..." Draco felt the world shift alarmingly under his feet and went down hard on one knee.

"Malfoy! What's happening? Oh crap, you're falling asleep, aren't you."

As his vision began to go out of focus, it suddenly occurred to him to wonder exactly whose memories they were and how whoever was testing them had gotten them. And just like that, he knew the answer.

"Potter, just leave me. I know what's going on. Nothing bad will happen to me, just go on and finish the test." His words were getting really slow and drawn out.

"Malfoy, I'm not leaving you here."

"I'll only slow you down."

"I can't just–"

"Aurors."

And then everything went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! Everything so far has been from Draco's POV, but just for this section, we'll get a glimpse of Harry's, because Draco is unconscious. I hope that doesn't throw anyone off too much. Enjoy! ^_^**

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is being used for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

Harry hadn't realized how much he had been relying on Malfoy to have his back until Malfoy crumbled to one knee, obviously succumbing to the effects of the potion in his system. Harry had dropped to his own knees to catch Malfoy's limp form when he toppled forward. He tried not to think of how very small and vulnerable his body felt in Harry's arms.

"Of course I can't just leave you here, you git," he snarled down at Malfoy's face.

He didn't know where he had to go, but wherever it was, he wasn't leaving Malfoy here in this creepy place. When he thought of how he would have felt being left alone and powerless to protect himself, he shuddered. Then, he carefully maneuvered Malfoy's body over one shoulder in a Muggle fireman carry and slowly stood.

He had Malfoy's right wrist in his hand to secure him properly. Malfoy's pale skin was smooth under his fingers, up until the rough edges where the manacles had rubbed him raw. He stroked the underside, near the pulse point, and felt that Malfoy's heartbeat was steady.

"Don't worry, I won't drop you," he said, even though Malfoy couldn't hear him.

He strode out the door, keeping a close lookout for anything that might be a threat, but there was nothing else in the dark hallway as far as he could tell. Still, he went forward, slowly but surely, hoping that somewhere there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was a very long hallway, and at the end was a winding staircase. Harry climbed, making sure that Malfoy's head didn't hit the wall.

Once in a while, he'd glance down at Malfoy's face, obscured by a curtain of platinum hair. He could just make out the pointed tip of his nose and the curve of his sharp mouth.

"You're a smart guy, Malfoy. You said you knew what was going on. Figured it out, did you? And here I am, looking at the exact same clues and not having any idea what's going on. It's a good thing I have you along, right?"

The staircase ended, and now he was in a vast room with just a glimpse of light at the very top. Harry couldn't see where the light came from, but the walls were completely smooth and he had no wand. On the other side of the cavernous room was another door. Harry marched across the room, eyes still on the lookout for enemies. His footsteps echoed as he made his way to the door.

"You know," he remarked conversationally to Malfoy, "I think this is just a test to see how far I'll carry you. Which is a stupid test, because I'd carry you until I couldn't walk anymore. If they think I'll abandon you because you were a Death Eater, they're not a very good judge of character – yours or mine."

After a while, his shoulder began to ache with the strain. He almost kept going in spite of the pain, but eventually drew to a halt.

"I promised I wouldn't drop you, so we're going to have to stop for a bit, okay?" Harry shifted Malfoy's weight so that he could lower him to the ground. "I know, I know. _Time is of the essence, Potter_. I'll be okay in a few minutes."

He sat on the floor, cradling Malfoy in his lap, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder and holding it there gently with one hand. This close, he could feel Malfoy's breath against his neck and the warmth of his skin through their layers of robes. It was strangely comfortable, the weight of Malfoy's pliant and sleep-heavy form in his arms.

"You smell like spices. Sort of like cinnamon." Harry glanced down at the top of Malfoy's head. "What am I doing Malfoy, smelling your hair? I think I'm going round the bend."

He briefly rested his own head against Malfoy's, marvelling at the silk-like texture under his cheek. Something in his chest was clenching up, and it was time to move again, before it broke.

"Let's go, Draco. Can I call you that?"

He picked up Draco again, balancing his weight and carrying on. He would be there soon, he was certain of it. Another hallway, another staircase, more empty rooms. It was eerie in a way, and Harry had never been so glad to have someone with him, even though Draco was unconscious.

He didn't know how long it had been, but finally, he came to a room that was lit up on the inside. Harry hurried towards it and found that this room had a door. Trying to open if while carrying Draco was an interesting endeavour. It required him to get the handle shoved down and then that he kick the door open with one foot, all while balancing Draco's weight so he wouldn't fall.

The room was white, and filled with potions. Harry couldn't believe it. There was a space in the middle, where he put down Draco gently, using his cloak to cushion Draco's head.

"One of these is somehow important. Do you think that this is where I will find Love's First Kiss?"

Harry looked around at the potions. They were lining all four walls of the white room in clear vials, enough for one swallow each. There were so many that Harry despaired of ever finding the right one from among them. There were clear ones, and thick ones that looked like mud. A few Harry thought he recognized. Polyjuice potion for one, and perhaps Veritaserum if that was one of the clear ones. He also recognized Felix Felicis near the top.

"What did you say about Love's First Kiss, Malfoy?" Harry murmured, frowning. "You've mentioned so many potions today that I think they're getting mixed up in my head. First in the dungeon, then in the pensieve..."

He looked down at Draco's mangled wrist that he'd wrapped a bit of his t-shirt around and tied off to keep it from getting dirt in it. Harry pulled the makeshift bandage up slightly and found that the potion in Malfoy's cuts was blue. The Muse from the memories was blue too, right?

"No, it was purple," Harry mocked himself aloud. "As if I can tell the difference."

He thought about it, but the dungeon seemed like it was years ago rather than a few hours. He remembered saying something about Fawkes... and the ingredients. Phoenix ash.

"One of them was red, wasn't it, Draco?" he asked, trying hard to think. "Deep red and cinnamon. It can't be blue, because that was the other one, the one that put you to sleep. You smell like cinnamon, did you know that?"

He looked around the room, and found that there were several potions that could probably be classified as somewhat red. He separated the reddish ones from the rest and set them on the floor in front of him. Trying to remember what Snape said about Potion Identification, he examined them.

"No, this one is more orange than red. This one's translucent. Urg, this one has bits in it. I don't want to know."

Next, he started uncapping them, one-by-one. One let out a cloud of golden sparks as soon as it was opened. Another one released a jet of grey steam.

"This one smells like sulphur. That one smells like blood. What the heck is up with these potions?"

The scent of cinnamon washed over him, and he examined the potion in front of him. It was a very very dark red, looking a bit like a girl's lipstick colour, or at least he thought so. Just to be sure, he uncorked the other ones too, but the rest were different. One released a cloud of bubbles and the rest smelled like strawberry jam, rubber bands and maple respectively.

"I'm hoping that I've got this right and it's not a blue potion that smells like cinnamon or something like that." He looked over at Malfoy's face. "This could end in disaster, you know. I'm not any good at potions. Now how am I supposed to get this into you?"

He considered just tipping the entire thing down Draco's throat, but there was something about this potion that was different. Harry didn't think it was supposed to be ingested.

"Love's First Kiss. Right. Should be obvious."

He trembled a little, and used a single finger to swipe some of the potion across his own lips. Taking a deep, calming breath, he slid a hand behind Draco's head, leaned down and pressed their mouths together. After a moment, he drew back.

"I'm no Prince Charming, Draco. But please wake up. I need you on my side."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey there everyone! Hope I haven't kept you too long. Back to Draco's POV, though I hoped you enjoyed seeing Harry's thoughts and feelings. **

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein belong to J.K. Rowling. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.**

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There was a misty silver haze in front of Draco's eyes, and no matter how much he blinked, it wouldn't go away. He wandered around in it aimlessly, but there were no landmarks anywhere to mark his progress. He wasn't scared, but it was terribly boring just hanging around in the mist. Every once in a while, he'd hear an echoing voice that sounded distant. He couldn't make out the words, but he thought it sounded like Potter.

He'd been sulking in the fog for a while when he felt a change. The mist started clearing a bit, and the edges became tinged in gold. He heard the voice more clearly, and it was getting closer.

_I need you on my side_

He felt like he was rising out of the mist, slowly. He blinked his eyes, and the fog started clearing faster until he could feel the hard floor against his back, something soft under his head, and warm fingers threaded through his hair.

Green eyes looked down at him in concern and it took him a moment to recognize Potter.

"What–" he coughed and blinked some more. "What's going on, Potter?"

"I found a room full of potions, and I remembered which one you said cures you. We're still there, by the way, in case you wanted to look at all the potions."

Draco frowned and asked, "Are we still in the stupid challenge thing?"

"Yes." The fingers in his hair curled tighter.

"Idiot. I told you to leave me there."

"I refused. There's no way I could leave you there, by yourself. You were defenceless!"

"I would have been fine." Draco bit his lip, wondering whether he should tell Potter his suspicions on why they were there to begin with.

"So are any of these potions useful in our future struggles to escape this mad place?" Potter asked, rubbing his free hand over the back of his head.

Draco sat up, missing the feel of Potter's fingers on his scalp before quickly and mercilessly battering the longing down again. There was no time for this.

"Polyjuice? Hard to brew and valuable. Veritaserum," he uncorked the nearest one and smelled it. "Not this one. This isn't even a potion, it's vodka. This one? No scent."

He thought of every clear potion that had no scent and came up with nothing that would harm him. He dipped a finger in the vial and licked it. No taste either.

"Potter, ask me what colour my eyes are."

Potter did, and he even as he tried to say "brown" he felt compelled to say "grey".

"Veritaserum..."

"You just took Veritaserum?" Potter asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, but only a bit. Not even the regulation three drops."

"How long do the effects last at that dosage?"

"At best, a couple of minutes." Draco became slightly nervous, suddenly realizing that there were a few things that he knew that he definitely didn't want anyone finding out.

"Do you know why we're here?"

"Yes. I would have answered that one even without Truth Serum you know, Potter."

"How do you know?"

"I figured it out from what we've been shown. Specifically, the memories in the pensieve."

"Are the people who have us here dangerous?"

"Oh yes, very."

"Malfoy, why didn't you bloody say something then?" Potter's green eyes were narrowed.

"I was trying to, when I was falling asleep! I didn't tell you after waking up because they're not trying to kill us, they're testing us. Or you, actually. It would probably better you didn't know until after we're done here."

Draco felt the effects starting to wear off.

"Draco, if it had been me under the effects of that potion asleep, would you have left me?"

"Never."

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, hardly able to process this. Draco hadn't realized that he would answer that way any more than Potter had. Finally, Draco looked away, feeling a flush working its way onto his cheeks.

"Potter, ask me what colour my eyes are, if you will."

This time he was able to lie.

Slightly awkwardly, the two of them stood, and Potter picked up his cloak off the floor and swept it back around his shoulders. Draco realized that Potter had put it under his head earlier so that his head wasn't on the solid floor and felt a strange fluttery sensation in his gut at the thought that Potter had cared enough to do that.

"Wait, you didn't have a wand," he said, frowning. "How did I get here?"

Up until that point, he'd assumed a levitation spell. But neither of them had wands, and sustaining wandless magic for any length of time was very draining. Potter certainly looked somewhat tired, but not to the extent that wandless magic would have affected him.

"I carried you," Potter shrugged in an off-hand sort of way, as if it were no big deal.

This time, Draco felt the blush spread right across his face and the tips of his ears. Potter had been touching him while he was unconscious! He kept trying to convince his brain that obviously Potter was far too chivalrous to do anything to his comatose body, but it wouldn't shut up about Potter and how Potter's hands had been on him.

Potter noticed his red face, and an answering flush rose in his cheeks as the implications became apparent to him.

"Nothing happened!" he assured Draco, hands raised.

"Okay, let's go," he said quickly, pocketing the Veritaserum, the Polyjuice and a little vial that contained a bezoar. He didn't want to carry too many vials in case they shattered.

"What, not taking the Felix felicis?" Potter asked with a small grin.

"Potter, you're in a test, and its being monitored. Obviously you can't take any Liquid Luck without being accused of cheating."

"Oh, I didn't even think of that..." Potter frowned. "But what if I hadn't known it was a test?"

"Find many random vials of Liquid Luck just hanging around in real life?" Draco asked in return, raising an eyebrow.

"True," Potter said with a sad sigh, but they left the potions room.

This room had another pedestal. Before Draco could complain about even more tests, he recognized the objects on the pedestal.

"My wand!" he cried, about to leap forward and snatch it up.

"Wait, Draco, no!" Harry grabbed him around the waist to stop him from reaching out to just grab it.

Draco registered two things at once. One: Potter had just called him by his given name and as a result his own brain had taken this as permission to call him "Harry". Two: Harry's arm was wrapped around his waist and holding him tightly against Harry's warm, solid body.

"Um..." he said, but nothing else emerged from his shocked mouth.

"Er," Harry said, frozen with his arm still holding Draco.

Draco felt a stuttering breath wash over the sensitive nape of his neck and shivered in response. After a moment or two, Draco stepped away, and with the motion, Harry let him go. They were silent for another few moments before Harry cleared his throat.

"It could be a trap."

"What do you propose we do then, Potter?"

"We should both face the pedestal from opposite sides of the thing. That way, if something pops up, then we have the entire room covered. Also, if we grab them at the same time, then we'll both have our wands and the other won't randomly disappear."

This sounded like a good plan, so Draco stepped to the other side of the pedestal and prepared himself for whatever came next.

"Ready when you are."

"Count of three?"

"One... two... THREE!"

Their hands closed on their wands at the same moment.

The lights went out.

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**Doncha love cliffhangers? ^_^**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! We're getting into some action here! I hope you enjoy the boys working together.**

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only.**

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Draco clutched his wand tighter in the darkness and whispered, "Potter, what now?"

"Lumos maxima," Potter said, and illuminated the space around them. "Get my back, we don't know what else is out there."

"I can see almost the whole room now." Draco tried hard to see into the dark corners that were not quite visible under the light of Harry's spell.

"It's that _almost_ bit that I'm worried about," Harry input shortly.

Draco shifted until he and Harry were back-to-back, and feeling the slight heat of Harry's body radiating next to his was comforting. He scanned the room again.

"The door is over there."

The two of them moved as one unit towards the door, Harry first to watch the door and Draco facing the rear, guarding them from behind. Harry tried to open it, but the doorknob refused to turn.

"Alohomora," he whispered, and the door opened.

As they stepped through, the light followed them, but it was easy to see that this room was much larger than the previous. The light didn't allow them to see even most of the room.

"Do you think our light could be giving us away?" Draco asked in a soft voice.

"If there's anything out there, it might not necessarily need light to find us, while we probably need light to find them," Harry responded, eyes sweeping the darkness.

"If there is a wizard out there–"

"Cast Homenum revelio," Harry instructed and Draco did so, feeling silly for forgetting.

"Nothing," he reported, even though Harry could see for himself the results.

They inched forward, although nothing of the room they were in gave away their position within in. The door they'd come from was already lost in the dark.

"Give me a moment," Draco knelt, while Harry stood over him, guarding him. He quickly sketched a glowing red rune on the ground. Then, holding out his palm, he quickly muttered the "Point Me" spell.

"Right, let's go," Harry said, realizing without asking what he was doing. "Will we be able to see that rune from far away?"

"Even better," Draco smiled grimly. "I can feel it. It will fade in an hour. If I cast another one, the feeling of the first will be diminished. This way we can try and keep track of where we've already been."

"Right."

They traveled in silence for a while, taking even, cautious steps. All Draco could hear for the longest time were their own footsteps and Harry's breathing next to him. Then he heard a noise. It sounded a wet, rattling, breath.

"What's that?" he whispered to Harry, fighting the urge to get even closer to Harry.

"I don't know. Homenum revelio," Harry said.

Nothing.

"Not human then. Great." Harry bit his lip.

The next thing that became apparent was a strong smell of the most awful stench that Draco could remember. It smelled like rotting meat and decay. It didn't take long for them to see it, as the creature couldn't sneak up on them.

"Harry..." Draco whispered, catching sight of a massive shape appearing out of the gloom.

The thing was about ten feet tall, and the first thing that Draco saw were the huge, curved antlers raking outward from the creature's skull. It had a long jaw full of wickedly sharp, yellow teeth and the head was covered in long, thick hair. The rest of it was vaguely humanoid, although its limbs were obscenely long and looked as if it were made of rough skin stretched over bone giving it a skeletal appearance. Its arms ended in long claws. As it came forward, the temperature of the room dropped drastically to the point that Draco could see his breath in front of him.

"What is that" Draco barely got the words out, barely able to function.

"Let's go! Stupefy! Impedimenta! Diffindo!" Harry yelled, firing off spells in quick succession, all the while pulling the two of them backwards.

The spells had very little effect of it as it followed them, slowly, as if stalking its prey with the certain knowledge that they could not escape. The action of running and shooting spells brought Draco's brain back online. He remembered what was going on, and muttered, "Serious words are going to be had once this is bloody over!"

With the return of his rationality, he tried to remember reading anything about something like this. Even as they retreated, he could feel the air getting even colder. It was most definitely below the freezing point now, and when Draco blinked, his eyelashes started sticking together, and the few locks of hair hanging in front of his nose started to ice up at the ends. He tried to put it together in his mind.

Monstrous creature, smelled like death, antlers, gaunt, brought winter along behind it... not anything from a warm climate then. Finland? No, their winter creatures were relatively peaceful. Russia? Lots of creatures that brought cold, but mostly water spirits and nymph-like creatures. Canada...

"It's a wendigo!" he said suddenly, although he'd never seen an illustration of one before.

"_Culicidifors!_" Harry yelled without a second thought.

The creature exploded into tiny pieces, and it took a moment to realize that the wendigo had burst into a cloud of mosquitos. Mosquitos, although annoying, posed no danger to him.

"How did you know which spell to use?" Draco gasped.

"I read it in a book I have on Defence against Dangerous Magical Creatures. Wendigos are one of the few Class 5 species out there, so I made sure to know the spell. I guess it should have occurred to me to figure out what the damn thing looked like too. Good thing you're here."

And then another figure appeared on the edge of the circle, although this time Draco recognized it immediately.

"Lumos Solem," Draco cooly pointed his wand into the vampire's face, and a burst of sunlight caused the vampire to recoil, incapacitated for the moment.

Meanwhile, it appeared that Harry had also run into some trouble, although nothing he apparently couldn't handle.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry yelled, and a moment later his silver stag was galloping off into the darkness, attacking a shadowy, flat shape that squirmed and flailed as Harry's Patronus stomped on it.

"Lethifold," he reported to Draco.

The lights came up, and suddenly the whole area was illuminated. The vampire was still curled on the ground with his hands over his eyes, and presumably temporarily blinded. That was just as well, since there were five Blast-Ended Skrewts coming towards them, using their exploding ends to propel themselves forward faster.

"I thought these things were done with!" Draco cried. "Hagrid only had the one left, didn't he?"

"He must have made more then, or someone copied him," Harry replied grimly. "I fought one in the Triwizard Tournament. Only the underbelly is vulnerable."

"That's great, that's just bloody dandy," Draco snarled. Pointing his wand at the nearest one, he hissed, "Levicorpus!"

It was yanked into the air and began flailing around making terrifying hissing noises.

"Hurry up and hit it!" Draco felt the strain of holding up such a large creature and felt sweat beading on his forehead.

"It's flailing around so much, hold it still!"

"I can't make it hold still, just hurry up!"

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" In spite of his previous words, two of three Stunning spells hit the underside, and Draco let the limp form of the first Skrewt land on the backs of one of its brethren. Alarmingly, this distracted the second one sufficiently, as if ripped into the soft underbelly presented to it and began to devour it.

"Oh, ew," Draco's face twisted. "That's disgusting. Come on, Potter, we still have four left!"

"But that one's distracted!" Harry protested.

"Yeah, until it's finished, then it'll want to finish up with dessert! Let's go!"

The two of them ran around the Skrewts, taking advantage of the fact that they couldn't seem to turn around very easily. Draco picked them up with Wingardium Leviosa once it became apparent that the spell worked better for keeping them immobile. He was forced to drop them a few times sometimes when one of the other Skrewts got too close and almost managed to grab him. By the time they were finished, the Skrewts were incapacitated, and Draco and Harry none the worse for wear, if a bit singed.

As soon as they had finished that, an entire army of Doxies appeared.

"Doxies? What kind of insult is this!" Draco snapped. "Immobulus!"

They all froze.

Draco, who was unaccustomed to being sweaty, dirty and covered in soot, looked down at his robes in dismay. Harry smirked over at him as he pouted.

"Scourgify," Harry said simply, clearing away the dirt with one wave of his wand.

"Are we done yet?" Draco sighed dramatically, glaring around in annoyance.

The two of them made their way to the door, with Draco still watching their back in case of the return of any nasty creatures. They made it safely to the door, and both stared at the handle in mistrust.

"We have to go on."

"Yes."

The door opened to a barrage of Stunning spells.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there everyone! Before we start, thanks to everyone who has been commenting and reviewing this fanfic! I love receiving feedback and it is very much appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only.**

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Draco wasn't even aware of ducking and rolling before he found himself behind a random square block that kept him under cover. He looked back to find that Harry had put up a hasty Protego spell and was running in a crouch to join him.

"We're not done yet," he complained at Harry once he was in hearing range.

"It appears not. How many are there? I think I counted four."

"Homenum revelio," Draco cast the spell, and four glowing markers appeared, and then all of them flickered and disappeared again.

"There are four, but it looks like they have a way to counter it. We won't be able to track them using it." Harry ground his teeth. "Now what?"

Draco conjured a mirror with a flick of his wrist, and Harry gave him a funny look and raised eyebrows.

"What?" Draco demanded defensively. "It's coming in handy now, isn't it?"

He held it up so that they could look overtop of the block without actually poking their heads around and bringing them in line of fire. By swivelling the mirror around, Draco found the presence of three out of four of their attackers.

"One's up high on lookout. Two are trying to flank us. I have no idea where the last one is." Draco thought for a moment before suggesting, "Disillusionment Charm?"

"Probably," Harry agreed.

"Why can't two play at the same game then?" Draco smiled grimly before tapping Harry on the forehead with his wand.

"I forgot you could do that," Harry admitted as he disappeared from sight.

Draco hummed in agreement and performed one on himself as well.

"If we use a spell that has a colour indicator, then we'll give away our position," Harry whispered. "What do we do? Stupefy is out."

"Petrificus then. Let's go."

Harry cast a Silencio on their shoes, and then they set out towards the door at the opposite end of the room. There were random blocks, steps and platforms scattered throughout the room, creating a multi-dimensional battlefield to traverse. In the middle was a shallow stream about six feet wide.

"Come on," Harry's whisper ahead of him indicated that they were heading away from the people trying to flank them. Draco didn't mind not engaging anyone in the least and followed his lead.

"How do we cross the river?" he said, barely breathing out the words.

He abruptly walked straight into Harry, and felt Harry search him out with hurried pats and eventually grasp his wrist to pull him closer. Feeling his way up his arm, shoulder and neck, Harry evidently found his head and leaned forward to say into his ear, "Run, slide and roll, okay? Then run right, to that block right there. Follow my lead."

Draco felt more than heard Harry break away and start a head-long dash toward the river. Draco followed without hesitation, hoping that Harry had come up in a plan that did not involve getting them wet. Ahead of him, Harry did a non-verbal Glacius spell, and the stream ahead of them turned to ice.

_Run, slide and roll._ Those had been Harry's instructions.

"Bloody hell!" Draco muttered to himself before launching himself forward onto the ice, wavering as he slid across to the other side.

Somehow he managed to stay on his feet, and once he hit the bank on the other side, he dove into a roll. It became immediately apparent why Harry had told him to roll, because as he hit with his shoulder and completed the dive, several Stunning spells shot over his head at the area of frozen stream. They were coming from the lookout point, and if they could hit him, that meant he was in range to hit them, too.

"Petrificus totalus!" he hissed, and the form on the overhead platform stiffened and toppled over.

Draco kept running towards the block that Harry had told him to run to, but before he could get there, his toe collided with something solid, and he went down hard. He lay there for a moment, ribs smarting, before crawling over to whatever he tripped over. He poked the invisible object, and it was warm.

"Harry?" he whispered, hoping that Harry hadn't been Stunned. There was no answer.

"Rennervate," he said, prodding the unconscious body with his wand.

"Harry?" he asked at the same time that the person said, "McKnight?"

"Oh shit," he squeaked, realizing his mistake and jumping backwards. "Harry!"

"Draco?" Harry's voice came from behind the rock.

The invisible person sent up a shower of red sparks before yelling "Finite Incantatem!"

Harry yelled, "Stupefy!"

The wizard, still invisible, collapsed on top of Draco's feet. Draco, now visible, struggled to get out from underneath the body, hearing running footsteps coming up from behind them.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled again at the approaching enemy.

Draco rolled to his feet, turning to face the other two enemies. The cloaked figure in the lead cast a non-verbal Shield Charm, deflecting Harry's attack. The other figure yelled, "Incarcerous!" Ropes leapt from the tip of her wand and bound Draco from shoulder to knee. Unable to stand, he fell to the ground. In an attempt to escape, Draco rolled himself quickly behind the nearest rock. He couldn't move his wand, but there were spells that didn't require wand movement.

_Incendio_, Draco thought, attempting a non-verbal spell.

Good news was, the ropes were on fire and had turned to ash in a matter of moments. Bad news was, Draco was also on fire, and he really should have thought this through before trying it.

"Aguamenti!" he yelled, dousing himself in water.

So much for not getting wet.

The witch rounded the corner in the next moment. Draco tried another non-verbal hex, this time _Levicorpus_. With a flick of his wand, she was upside down, dangling by one ankle. This, however, did not deter her from casting another _Incarcerous_ at him. He tried to dodge, but the spell caught him around the knees and ankles.

Taking a note out of her books, rather than deal with the rope, he yelled "Stupefy!" She had already been released from the Levicorpus, but his Stunner hit her where she was lying on the ground. Draco couldn't believe he'd forgotten the Relashio counter to Incarcerous, and used it to free himself this time around. There was no way he was telling anyone that he'd _set himself on fire_ when he recounted this later.

He rounded the rock to find that Harry and his opponent were still fighting. It seemed that at some point in the proceedings, one or both had lost their wands, and had taken to physically fighting instead. Unfortunately for Harry, this was proving to be a terrible idea, as his opponent had more training than him.

They were too close together for Draco to be able to hit one without hitting the other. Draco looked around quickly, muttering a Homenum revelio as he did. There was no one else around except the two fighters, so rather than wait for them to beat each other up, Draco cast a Stupefy. It hit both of them, knocking them both to the ground. The effects weren't as strong as they would have been if it had only hit one of them, so both were still conscious, if a bit stunned.

Draco marched up beside them, stood over Harry's opponent and Stunned him. He turned to Harry and cast a Rennervate, just to take off the effects of the Stunner.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning over to peer intently into Harry's face.

Harry grinned up at him, revealing a split lip and a broken nose. Draco rolled his eyes, then knelt next to Harry, reaching out a gentle hand to tilt his chin up. Carefully, he muttered "Episkey," and Harry's nose straightened out. He cast another one to heal Harry's lip. Using the wet sleeve of his robe, he wiped the blood off of Harry's face.

"Why are your lips red?" Draco asked, frowning, as no matter how much he swiped, the red colour refused to leave Harry's mouth.

"Yours are too, you know. Why are you wet?" Harry countered.

Preferring to dwell on the previous statement rather than admit his ineptitude while thinking under pressure, he considered Harry's words. His lips were red. He conjured another mirror, and his own were very red, to the point that it looked as if he were wearing lip tint. He thought it made him look kind of ridiculous.

It was probably a side-effect of something. Not the Veritaserum, and besides, only he'd taken that. The obvious choice was the Love's First Kiss potion, as it was applied directly to the lips, but once again, that had only been applied to his mouth. Although he hadn't been awake for that part.

And then it occurred to him: Love's First_ Kiss_.

Harry would be the type to take it literally.

His entire face turned red at that point, and self-consciously, he covered his mouth with his hand. Harry had kissed him. On the mouth. Like people did in fairytales to wake up the princess. He hadn't even been awake to enjoy it! It was so unfair...

Harry caught his motion and his eyes fixed on where Draco was covering his lips with his fingers. Harry lifted his own hand to his lips and brushed his fingers over them, as if remembering. Their eyes met, and Harry's cheeks reddened in response to Draco's blush.

Well, that confirmed it, as far as Draco was concerned.

They sat there frozen for a moment or too, and Draco could feel his heart drumming against his ribcage as he contemplated what Harry's lips had probably felt like against his own. They looked soft, like they would fit against his mouth perfectly.

Harry coughed, still blushing fiercely. "I think we should go."

"You're right," Draco replied, standing and holding his hand out to Harry to help him to his feet.

Harry took his hand, but after Draco had pulled him up, he refused to let go.

"This has to be over now," Draco said, feeling tired and sore from their trials.

"We'll have to see," Harry replied, and he opened what was hopefully the last door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everyone! This is the wrap-up! There will be an epilogue after this, but this is the end of the main storyline. Thanks for reading everyone!**

**Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

There was a tall, solid figure standing in the room beyond. The room was a dull and normal-looking office with no windows. Draco tensed, ready to counter any attack that came.

The figure turned around.

"Kingsley?" Beside him, Harry gasped in surprise.

"Hello, Harry. Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad to see that the two of you made it safely through." Kingsley smiled, gesturing them to follow.

They did, and once they were out of the room, it was clear that they were in the Auror offices at the Ministry. Kingsley led them down the hall and stopped. Draco glanced at Harry questioningly and Harry shrugged in return.

"I need to debrief you, but I need to do it separately. I wasn't planning on it, but now it looks as if there's been a slight change of plan. Harry, you go in this room. Mr. Malfoy, into that one."

Draco dropped Harry's hand reluctantly and stared at the door mistrustfully, but Kingsley opened it for him, revealing it to be an interview room. Draco stepped inside, looking around suspiciously for signs that he could be in imminent danger.

"I'll debrief Harry first. It'll only be a few minutes Mr. Malfoy if you could be so kind as to wait."

Draco didn't say anything, but dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. He wasn't being given much choice in the matter. Of course, now that Harry had an inkling of what was going on, he looked much more relaxed. Draco sat in one of the chairs, took a deep breath, and waited.

A short time later, Kingsley knocked on the door and entered the interview room, seating himself easily across from Draco.

"So, I take it that you understand what is going on, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Obviously. This was a test to see if Harry was ready to be entered into the Auror program. You were testing him on problem solving, physical endurance, logical deduction, potions knowledge, defence against dangerous magical creatures and duelling."

"How did you know it was the Aurors?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The pensieve memories. The person supplying the memories has to be present in the memory itself. You were the only person present in all of them. I decided it must be the Aurors because the tests were designed to challenge, not kill us."

"You are mostly right, yes. We decided to challenge Harry to see if he could past the Auror entrance exam. Generally what happens when we do this is that the person taking the exam must take a non-combatant through a series of challenges and get them safely to the other side."

"I sense a 'but' in this statement," Draco drawled, leaning in his chair.

"Indeed. As it turned out, you were quite the useful companion and complemented him quite well. If I'd left the challenges the way that they were, Harry would have had an unfair advantage, since you were helping him. So mid-test, we made the challenges hard enough for two people rather than one."

"Are you telling me that I passed the Auror entrance exam?" Draco asked faintly, blinking rapidly.

"Well... for lack of a better word... yes, you did pass the Auror exam, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, the two of you passed with flying colours. You'll find that, on your return to Hogwarts, there are letters of recommendation waiting for you should you want to apply once you graduate."

Draco sat in shocked silence for a moment or two, mind racing. He had passed the Auror exam and now he was being recommended for a spot as a recruit once he'd finished school. This was unprecedented in Malfoy family history. Harry was definitely going to take this opportunity, he was certain of that. But should he do it? He was the heir to the Malfoy fortune and would not actually need to work if he so chose.

He didn't know what to say, so instead he asked, "What happened with those pensieve memories? I mean, we never got to find out what happened with those."

Kingsley sighed. "I should have known you'd ask that. The way that the pensieve usually works is that the potential recruit goes through the memory, and as they deduce certain things, they can proceed to the next step. The memory will automatically stop and start at different points, such as figuring out who to question, what to ask, and noticing things that were suspicious.

"You however, thanks to your potions knowledge were given a case more to do with potions. What's more, this was a cold case. We never did find out what happened here, and in fact, your help uncovered evidence that would have done us a lot of good."

"You've never had to deal with Morpheus Muse, have you?" Draco asked, leaning forward on the table. "You didn't know the signs to look for, right?"

Kingsley nodded. "This was one of the first cases we'd ever seen, and in most of the times after that, whoever was using it had been taking Muse in addition to another type of drug, so we couldn't figure out what the signs of Muse were based on that. Your knowledge could be very useful in that regard."

Draco took a deep breath and admitted, "The creator of Muse was my father."

Kingsley froze, and he could feel the other man staring at him.

"He brewed it for Voldemort in order to help recruitment for his Death Eaters. Once I had joined them, I took over for my father, who had better things to do."

Kingsley bowed his head. "I see. Did you ever use?"

"Never. I know what it does to the human body."

"I see," Kingsley repeated, frowning. "Do you have any further questions? Your recommendation still stands, your past with Voldemort none-withstanding."

"When I was unconscious..." Draco started saying.

"Yes. Our surveillance has a recording. I'll let you watch it yourself. I'll be waiting out in the hall with Harry." Kingsley left, leaving Draco in the room alone.

Soon after that, a pensieve arrived, with one memory. Draco very quickly uncorked it, poured it, and entered the memory.

It started playing as soon as Draco collapsed. Harry had caught him easily, and lifted him up, carrying him. Draco wasn't sure whether or not he was glad that Harry hadn't carried him bridal style. Once in a while, Harry would talk to him, as if he were still awake, and Draco felt a little glow of warmth in him at Harry's one-sided conversation. When Harry stopped for a moment and held Draco carefully in his lap, Draco felt another flush rise in his cheeks. It seemed so intimate, and it made his insides squirm.

It didn't take long to get to the potions room, where Harry kept talking to Draco while trying to find the right potion. He knew almost immediately which one it was, even without the smell to guide him, and Harry eventually found the correct one.

Harry uncorked the potion and swiped it across his own lips. Draco held his breath as Harry leaned over and kissed Draco, saying, "I'm no Prince Charming, Draco. But please wake up. I need you on my side."

The memory stopped playing, and Draco was left sitting in the office by himself. Feeling his stomach doing a fluttery type of dance inside him, he stood and let himself out.

Kingsley and Harry were waiting for him. Kingsley beckoned him to follow, and Harry was refusing to look him in the eyes.

"We have a portkey ready to take you back to Hogwarts," Kingsley told them both. "Professor McGonagall knows where you are and has been alerted to your impending return."

The portkey was an old teapot with the spout missing. Draco reached forward and put his hand on it, purposefully brushing the tips of his fingers over Harry's. Harry's head shot up in surprise, eyes wide and blinking in surprise. Draco smiled slowly, heart pounding. The portkey whirled them away.

Harry nearly fell as they landed, and Draco jumped forward to steady him, leaving the teapot where it was. He grabbed onto Harry's arms to keep him from falling, and even through his robes, Harry felt warm. Or maybe it was his imagination.

"Harry..." he murmured, heart starting to race again. His stomach had tied itself in a knot and he was about to start hyperventilating from nerves, but that was perfectly alright.

Harry looked up, his verdant eyes meeting Draco's.

"You're definitely Prince Charming material," Draco said, voice unsteady and rough.

He leaned in, hands reaching up to cup Harry's jaw. Harry let out a shaky breath and Draco smiled against it, pressing their mouths together. Harry shuddered against him, and suddenly, he was enveloped in warmth. Harry grasped him around the waist and pulled him closer, snug against him. Draco's fingers curled in messy black hair and he tilted his head, meshing their lips closer.

It was hot and messy, and Draco loved every moment of it.

They broke apart, panting, and Draco licked his lips to savour the taste of Harry on them. Harry grinned at him, hair even messier than usual from where Draco's fingers had clutched. His mouth was still red and wet from Draco's kiss.

"Shall we go back?" Draco asked, curling even closer in spite of his words.

"I guess we should," Harry said, finding Draco's hand and entwining their fingers.

As they made their way back up to the castle, with their hands joined together, Draco felt himself smiling like a madman. But he couldn't bring himself to stop.


	10. Chapter 10

**This is it, everyone! I'm finally done! I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you all for reading, and a special thanks to everyone who has been commenting the past few chapters. I really appreciate your reviews!**

**Disclaimer: the characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only**

* * *

Epilogue – 3 months later

Draco let out a deep breath and swept the sweaty hair out of his face. The potion for his final exam had been difficult and the brewing had kept Draco occupied for the past three hours. He made a face, knowing that his hair was a mess and his face was pink from leaning over his cauldron for so long. He probably smelled like frog spleen or something.

On the bright side, his potion was absolute perfection.

The examiner made a hum of approval as he bottled a sample from Draco's cauldron.

"You may go, Mr. Malfoy."

This was his last exam, and then he was done forever. Graduation was set for tomorrow, and Draco would celebrate his victory later, just as soon as he cleaned up.

He was on his way back to the Slytherin common room when a hand reached out of a dark alcove, seized his wrist, and pulled him out of sight.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Potter, I'm disgusting. Let go of me, you twit."

Harry only hung on tighter, burying his nose in the crook of Draco's neck. Draco didn't bother trying to escape. He smiled, because Harry couldn't see his face, and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

"You have frog spleen in your hair," Harry murmured happily into his ear.

Draco huffed out a short laugh. "Yes, I know. That's why I was on my way to my dorm. Cleanliness, Potter. I know you know what that is."

"You're perfect like this."

Draco felt his face flush horribly. No matter how many times Harry said it, he still couldn't believe he was this lucky. Harry was ridiculously content to cuddle him, whenever or wherever they were. He often walked straight out of potions or off the Quidditch field only to find Harry waiting for him.

Harry just grinned and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

Draco melted into it, quite happy to allow Harry to push him up against the wall and snog him breathless. After a moment or two, he laughed and untangled himself.

"Seriously, Potter. I am getting clean, and then I'm all yours. Okay?"

"I'll be waiting."

When Draco emerged from his dorm, absolutely clean and fresh out of the shower, Harry was indeed waiting still. Draco sighed as he realized that Harry had managed to pick of a few people along the way. Granger and Weasley were with him, and they seemed to be chatting amiably with him.

They all turned at his approach.

"Malfoy," Weasley said in a neutral tone. "I hear you're done your final exam."

"Yes," Draco answered in a civil voice. "Granger was in Potions with me. How did you find it?"

He made small talk with them as best he could. He still found it awkward sometimes, and he'd bitten his tongue more times than he could count trying to hold back a sarcastic comment. It appeared to be working, as they'd stopped shooting him distrustful looks. Mostly.

Harry cut in, grabbing Draco's hand and grinning at his friends. "I'll see you at dinner. I have to talk to Draco about something."

Draco felt his stomach seize up. He wasn't expecting Harry to want to talk to him, as everything was going surprisingly smoothly, as far as he could tell. He quickly sifted through the memories from the past week, trying to figure out what Harry could possibly want to discuss. Nothing came to mind, which was worrying.

Harry lead him outside, pulling him towards the lake. Draco followed with trepidation. He remembered the argument they'd had by the lake that had started this whole thing off. He'd been extra vigilant ever since then, being careful not to get kidnapped again.

Harry finally turned to him, and his cheeks had more colour in them than usual.

"So, Graduation tomorrow, right?" Harry smiled nervously. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Well, yes." Draco nodded, still in the dark. "I've been anticipating tomorrow for the last month or so. How are you feeling about it?"

"Quite good," Harry's face reddened further for some unfathomable reason. "In fact, I think we should celebrate tomorrow."

"Well, yes. There'll be a lot of celebration tomorrow," Draco thought that maybe Harry was going to try and talk him into going to a party in Gryffindor. He readied himself to reluctantly agree.

"No, um. I mean _celebrate._Oh, I'm going about this all wrong. I mean, I want to... you know. That thing you wanted to do that I wanted to wait for..." Harry's face was burning by this point.

And Draco got it.

He smiled gently and pulled Harry into a kiss. It was careful, slow, and Harry's cheeks were hot underneath his fingers. He smiled into it, feeling the curve of Harry's mouth against his. His hands slid into Harry's messy hair, and Harry's lips parted under his own. He tasted divine. When he pulled back, he brushed a quick kiss over the end of Harry's nose.

"If you're sure," he said, because he didn't want to rush Harry.

Harry looked up through the dark fringe of his lashes shyly, and Draco felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn't help leaning forward to kiss him again. "Okay," he breathed against Harry's mouth. "Alright."

The next day was the perfect type of day for Graduation. It was sunny, warm and there wasn't even a hint of rain. But Draco wasn't paying attention to that, he was hardly able to get into his Graduating robes properly. He couldn't believe it, but instead of being excited for finally finishing school, he was looking forward to spending the night with Harry.

Harry was placed near him, because the line was alphabetical by surname. He kept shooting glances over at Harry, and whenever their eyes met, Harry blushed. He went first, and when he walked across the stage to receive his diploma and Auror recommendation, hardly anyone noticed. It didn't matter though, because Harry was watching him. Everyone cheered for Harry, of course, but that was a given.

The whole thing was some sort of time paradox, because Draco had no idea how the day managed to pass in a blur at the same time as it seemed to drag on forever. But finally, _finally_ he could be alone with Harry.

After dinner, Harry dragged him off, evading well-wishers and adoring masses with ease. There was a party in the Great Hall for the Graduates, but Harry was pulling him towards the Gryffindor common room. The dorm room was empty, and Draco was relieved to find that Harry's friends had not tried to take him to the party. Harry halted in the empty dorm, and turned, eyes wide and green.

"Um, so how do we... do this?" Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair.

Draco had no idea.

He closed the door behind him and locked it.

"I think we just... go with it?" His voice curled up questioningly at the end, and he winced at how unsure he suddenly sounded.

Harry's eyes widened impossibly more. "Wait, you haven't...? You were just so... confident about the whole thing..."

Draco shrugged awkwardly and explained. "It's not that I'm confident. It's just... it's you. I trust you. So I know it'll work out fine, in the end."

"What if I hurt you?" Harry's eyes were clouded with worry.

"You won't."

Draco tugged him gently forward by the front of his robes and kissed him. No need to rush things; they had all night to figure this out. Harry's hands slid into Draco's hair, and caressed the area just behind his ear. Draco shivered and gave a small gasp, and Harry deepened the kiss. Draco slid his hands up Harry's stomach and chest and unclasped Harry's cloak. It fell to the ground, but Harry didn't even notice, as he pulled Draco towards his bed.

Draco struggled out of his own cloak just as Harry pushed him back on the bed. Harry climbed on after him, pausing for a moment as if to ask permission. Draco smiled slightly, nodding. Then he gave himself over to the feeling of Harry's fingers undoing buttons, shaking slightly as they revealed skin. Draco tilted his head back and brought Harry's mouth to his, tugging at Harry's jumper until it came off too. Piece by piece, the two of them came unraveled.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off him. Draco could almost feel the path those verdant eyes took as they traced his body. The feel of warm hands on his skin sent waves of heat crashing through his system. He could barely breath, but that was nothing next to Harry moving overtop of him. Harry's mouth started following the same path as his eyes had taken, and Draco shuddered. Last he checked, his stomach hadn't been that sensitive.

Harry paused where he was kneeling, between Draco's thighs. He pressed a messy kiss to the inside of Draco's knee and then looked up. "Okay?" His voice was low and rough with desire.

"Yes," Draco whispered.

One slick finger pressed at his entrance, and Draco took a shaky breath. When had Harry cast the lubrication spell without him noticing? He didn't ponder that for longer than it took to take another breath, as he felt Harry's tongue swirl around the head of his cock. He cried out at the unexpectedness of the action, then dug his fingers into the sheets. Harry's other hand closed around the base and stroked , his thumb working the vein on the underside. Draco made a choked whimper as Harry's mouth closed around the head and his tongue explored previously unknown territory.

Harry's other fingers, slick and warm, were working their way inside him. Draco's body opened up for him, allowing the intrusion with remarkable willingness. The two sensations warred with one another for Draco's attention. Draco was mindless with the intensity. His spine arched and his fingers twisted in the sheets desperately.

"I think you're ready," Harry told him, words breaking through to his mind.

"Yes," Draco gasped, throwing his head back to present the pale column of his throat. "_Please_."

A moment later, Harry was pushing into him, slowly but without pause. When he was fully sheathed inside Draco, he rested his forehead against his, their sweaty hair mingling together. Draco opened his eyes, and their gazes locked.

"Move," he said, and one of his hands found Harry's and twined their fingers together.

Harry moved. Draco gasped, and tightened his hand hard around Harry's, hanging on for all he was worth. The intimacy of having Harry this close to him was breaking him apart. His world was on fire. Harry was filling him up, over and over, and each thrust brought him closer to tipping over the edge.

"Harry," he cried out, words cracking along the seam. "I'm almost there."

"Come on then," Harry gritted into the sheets next to his head. "Come on."

Draco buried his free hand into the midnight dark mess of Harry's hair. His legs, slung easily around Harry's back were sliding free. Not yet, he couldn't fall apart just yet–

Harry buried himself to the hilt in Draco's pliant body one last time, hitting that spot inside Draco. Pure ecstasy washed over him, drowning him. He could feel himself screaming Harry's name, but he couldn't hear himself. He came apart all at once, and it was glorious.

When he finally came back to himself, Harry was collapsed overtop of him, breathing starting to even out. Their hands were still joined, slicked with sweat and starting to stick together. Draco didn't care. He reached down and pulled the covers over them, before snuggling down into Harry's embrace.

"You're mine," Harry murmured into his collarbone.

"Yours," Draco confirmed.

And Merlin help it, he was. He was Harry's, and he would be till the end of time. Later, there would be challenges for them to face. Harry's friends would disagree with them, and Draco's would too. They would struggle their way through Auror training. They would fight.

But they would face it all, just the same as they had at the very beginning, when they woke up in that dungeon, shackled together. They would get through it all.

But for now, he and Harry were without worries. Just for tonight, everything was perfect.

Draco fell asleep, pulled tight against Harry's side. Tonight, it was just them.

_Fin_


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